The Funny Are Going To The Funny Farm

You all seem to think that I am so funny? Well, apparently the 5 year old living at my house does, too. It might not be working out to my advantage, however. You know the "look" that you shoot your children, the look that warns them that their behavior is close to landing them in solitary confinement for the rest of their lives? Yeah, that look makes Chase bust out laughing. Useless. You know when you act like a small child to get your small child to see how useless and obnoxious it is to act like a small child and would they please stop that? Useless. It makes Chase laugh. You know that stern warning to a child to wipe that smirk off of their face or there is going to be some real trouble, yup, makes Chase laugh, which makes me laugh, and...okay, maybe that one is not so bad.

But this:

This is not so funny. On Thursday, Chase spilled a gallon of red house paint that glopped up the wall and all over the carpet. This actually looks pretty good. My mom had already mopped up the bad stuff with towels. Me, I snapped. Literally snapped. The snapping was overdue. I was ripe for a snap. I let out some choice words and broke into a fit of hysterics that would have led you to believe that I had broke my femur or something.

I was retelling this story to someone and Chase chimed in,

"Yeah, my mom made me laugh! She was so mad that it made me laugh!"

Seriously, kid! When are you going to start being scared of me?